Ourselves: The Vicky Harringer Anthology
by Ranma Matsuri
Summary: Rising the charts after it's debut, 'Icky Vicky' became an overnight sensation. But just who is this sour sweet sixteen? Enter the birth of pop's newest star... one determined to challenge its shining star.


Disclaimer: I do not own the Fairly Oddparents, any of its characters, nor the song 'Icky Vicky'. Though I'm pretty sure you knew that... didn't you?

**Proposal: Joining a Fan Club**

_(V-I-CKY) _

_(The sound of her name makes the little kids cry: AHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! )_

_Hey Vicky _

_You're so so icky _

_Just the thought of being around you _

_Makes me oh so sicky _

_Hey Vicky _

_Won't you please explain _

_Why you get so much enjoyment _

_Out of causing kids pain?_

_(OH OH OH!) _

_A chick who's just plain mean _

_A sour sweet sixteen _

_She's a fire breathing dragon _

_In a pair of black jeans! _

_(EEEEWWWW!!!!!!) _

_AHOOOOOOO _

_Hey Vicky _

_Won't you tell us true _

_How'd we ever get the bad luck _

_To be stuck with you? _

_Oh Vicky _

_Can we say one thing? _

_It's your super total yuckiness _

_That makes us wanna sing: OOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHH! _

_Icky Vicky _

_ooo ooo _

_Icky Vicky _

_ooo ooo _

_ICKY VICKY!_

_" And that was the number one song on our countdown for the 4th week in a row! Chip Skylark has done it again with this Super-Smash Hit! Now the question everyone's asking is: Who is Vicky and why the hell does Chip find her so icky? Any thoughts, Cheyenne?"_

_" Actually I was talking with my husband about this the other night and his theory is that 'Vicky' is actually a metaphor for life. You know, kind of like the blue corvette deal except without the vagina references."_

_" Interesting..."_

_" Yeah, leave it to him to believe that all our problems can be linked to an evil 16 year old girl (audience laughter). What about you, Ty?"_

_" Personally, I just think she's a victim of circumstance. Black jeans, really? The poor thing is probably just releasing pent up frustration from having to look at her wardrobe everyday." _

_" Ha, well that does it for this week's Top 40 Countdown. I'm Cheyenne."_

_" And this is Tyler. Yea-yeaeeee!"_

_"And we're out--"_

_(WHOOOOSH )_

_(CRASH)_

_(SHATTER)_

_(CHING-CHING-CHING)_

" What the---? That was MY WINDOW!"

The pig-tailed ten-year old girl didn't bother to hide her irritation (this time) as she gaped at her busted bedroom window. The cord to which had once been the stereo kept in the upstairs bathroom hung out of the frame that had nothing more than large pieces of jagged glass jutting out of it. She then looked up at the force which had caused the stereo (and her window)'s untimely death and fought the instinct to recoil at the rose darts pinning her own sable depths well behind the green frames that sharpened the blurry world they were born into. Huffs of pants swarmed out of those rose tinted lips warming her already flushed freckled cheeks that held a red coloring versus the pinker tint of the being's own flush that almost matched the collar of the hot pink bathrobe below it. The would-be overwhelming palette of the girlish shade on this beast was evened out with dark eyebrows, a shock of bright, carrot hair, and a pair of silk black pajama pants under the robe. With her arm still reached out towards the shattered window from the force of the throw, her hard stare never leaving her younger sister's, her posture returned to a neutral stance and her arm lowered back to her side. With a scratch to the carrot colored mane that wasn't encompassed in the low ponytail she favored due to the shampooing it had just received in the shower, the sixteen-year old hardened her glare... a well-learned signal that there was going to be no explanations nor apologies for what had just transpired and the twerpette had better shut up about it or there would be hell to pay. After getting her point across and causing her younger sister to slouch as far back into her bed as possible without going through it, the redhead turned and walked out the room. The younger sibling signed and returned to the manga in her hand ignoring the sudden breeze that would bring her back to the immediate problem of being windowless.

Furious stomps made a path from the pink hat/buck tooth infested bedroom down the hall to the Princess Pink, teddy bear decorated bedroom that behaved as the pinkish dragon's layer. Practically slamming the door off it's hinges as the room's only inhabitant closed it, a switch was flicked and a stony, cold cauldron fit for the wickedest of sorceresses revealed itself. The beast considered it for a moment, then with a huff flicked the switch again to put the wolf back in it's sheep clothing. Torturing innocents wasn't the quencher for this blood-thirsty rage, nor a broken window.... the blood she thirsted for was somewhere in his LA condo tanning those perfect teeth. Money was not the issue... it's just that she didn't have the influence to get close enough to him without being put down and carted off by a guild of armed bodyguards. She'd find a way though, she **always** found a way. After all, she almost succeeded at marrying this teen pop idol against his will. Her only foil had been the debts her supposedly rich and famous prince had tagged on to his name-- which would've been tacked to hers as well had she gone through with the union.

Broke. Loser. Creep.

She was a pushy and aggressively emotional girl but she was mature enough to handle a disappointment like that, it was her own fault for being so ignorant of the workings of the business. The almost wedding? Learned from it, over it. But a lesson couldn't be all that came of it... the obnoxiously catchy melody of that damn song started playing in her head and she almost slammed her cranium into the nearest wall. When she first heard it during his Pay-Per-View concert event, she did her usual 'act first, and forget about rational thinking' bout of rage which made quick work of the Turner's television. After they returned to the house oblivious to their massacred telly, she went home promptly falling asleep certain it'd all fade away by morning. No such luck. At school, in the shops, on the beach, at the mall, in the car, on the radio.... the words 'Icky Vicky' flooded the city and the world that surrounded it.

MTV, VH1, FUSE, Music Choice... if it played music, it played that song. And GOD did they play it! By the end of that first week, she was certain she had heard that song enough times to make up for a lifetime's worth of hearing loss for every deaf person in America. It was week four now and it hasn't let up one bit. Chances were it would stay this way for the rest of the summer. There hasn't been a summer hit this big since Britney Britney's debut single, "Baby, Baby". It was going to be a summer full of teenagers with the tops down chirping "Icky Vicky"... a summer Chip would not see the end of, if she had anything to do with it.

Plopping onto the cushy mattress topped with thoroughly threaded sheets and a sickeningly sweet plush comforter that all matched her iris, she grabbed the newest issue of 'Teen Beat' staring down into the handsome face that used to cause flutters of giddy adrenaline to shoot from her belly to her skull making her light-headed. Now she couldn't stop the deeply embedded scowl that carved itself into her would-be lovely (if not always so contorted) features. All of humanity, the high heavens, and in particular, one Mr. Skylark had best be thankful that looks really couldn't kill or one Mr. Skylark would be a puddle of burnt blood and scorched guts and thousands of fan-girls would be in mourning. Swiftly pulling out a lighter, flicking the trigger and lighting the magazine aflame in one fell swoop, she dropped it into the nearby waste can that was lined with white lace and also harbored the favored color. She watched it burn with an intensity that fed the flames aiding their consumption of the slick paper... and his face. Heh, even a product of nature found him utterly delicious. Only someone totally deranged, wholly detached, completely selfish, and undoubtedly evil in all its forms could possibly want to impose harm on such a delectable creature with a voice that dwarfed the purest of heaven's angels.

A profile the now slumbering creature fit to a tee.

* * *

" I'm telling you doll, we could make a killing off of this shtick. Eve-RY one wants to know who she is."

The imposing man took a long draw out of his Cuban cigar and allowed a smooth stream of smoke to release from his sexy lips. Laying back in his large black recliner looking out of place behind a even larger Oak-wood desk, he crossed his long legs on top of stacks of papers that apparently were of no particular importance to this gentleman though others may say otherwise. He eyed the thick woman standing on the other side of his desk, probably ogling her was more like it but he wasn't exactly prepared to admit that yet to her nor himself. Fraternization was strictly frowned upon after all and he wasn't apt to breaking those rules... yet...

The woman, his co-worker, adjusted her cat eyed frames and lightly used a perfectly french manicured finger to scratch lightly at her shoulder-length, flipped honey blond locks. Still a bit pessimistic about her partner's words, she blinked two dark eyes lined with long glued on lashes and pursed her Bubblegum Pink lips together in consideration. The 'Ayu' look was tough to pull off, especially when you were in no way, shape or form as short, small, skinny, and wide-eyed cute as that woman but her friends insisted it looked great on her tall, chubby, and stereotypically Asian slanted eyed awkwardness. Fidgeting in her hot pink pumps, she struggled to convey the answer she had meticulously mulled over in her head for a spell. " B-but... do you really think it's a good investment? After all, the public loses interest in these things fairly quickly. By the time we'd have everything set up, the effect of it all would probably have faded. Being in this business as long as we have, you should know that by now, sir."

Sir? Why did she always call him sir even when they were alone in his office? It was always, 'Micheal' during outings and family events. He always, **always** had to insist she address him casually when the other 'suits' weren't buzzing around but she remained uncharacteristically stubborn in that department. He was about to go into his familiar rant about the name deal when she spoke again. " Plus, you know how people are. I'd think they'd rather go on in their delusions about who this girl is. What if the " fire breathing dragon" is really just a bug grubbing lizard? The whole thing will be a bust."

Her words were slowly sinking into his hard skull... he just refused to adhere to them. He had made up his mind and at this point no one was going to deter him from completing this project. This idea had been rolling around in his head for two weeks straight after he had heard the chattering of two very Californian teenage girls while he was getting his daily Starbucks frapp. With "Icky Vicky" playing on one of their cellphones, the girls chattered excitedly about what the possible relationship between Chip and this mysterious evil girl could be. Of course, the idea that they were a couple came up and being the jealous, pop star obsessed wenches they were, they completely went the mile to belittle the unknown "slut" who must have treated their Chip sooo bad. Absurd as the unjustified envy was, it immediately set off some alarms in his head. Who is Vicky? What was she to Chip? Were there others like these two girls that wanted to know? How much cash could he make from their curiosity...?

" This is the contract I want her to sign." He took a small stack of papers clipped together that were in the pile underneath his foot and pushed it towards his co-worker. The Japanese-American woman took the papers and immediately her eyes sped through them, her mind comprehending every single word without slowing down once... until she got near the end. " Wh-wha?! Y-you can't possibly... this is nuts. Not even our biggest artists get this big of a percentage! You're gonna take a lot of heat for this, Micheal." Realizing her slip of tongue, she blanched for a second and then tipped her burning face down to the diamond patterned carpet. Though she wouldn't have been able to see it, Micheal hid his smirk anyway by turning to the side. " So... you'll do it, right?"

Pause. Sigh.

" Don't I always?"

* * *

Twenty-four hours later she stood outside of a quiet-looking two-story suburbia home. Colorful pansies, snapdragons, and violets lined the outside windows and the three step porch. Her gloved finger lightly traced the white doorbell suddenly fully realizing the scope of what she was about to do._ ' I really need to learn how to say 'no' to that man... where does he come up with these insane ideas?' _She mused. It had taken approximately 8 hours for a private investigator to locate this 'Vicky', another 2 hours to book a flight, 7 hours for sleep, an hour to get ready, half an hour for breakfast, half an hour to catch her plane, 3 hours and 35 minutes on the plane, 25 minutes grabbing her luggage,15 minutes getting a taxi and 45 minutes finding the damn place. Rubbing her exhausted eyelids (careful not to smear her Gold Rush eyeshadow and Black Coal eyeliner), she rang the doorbell again. '_This had better be worth it, Micheal or--'_

" Hello? Timmy?!"

Though one hovered over the other, all the same they simultaneously locked similarly dark eyes through similarly crafted frames. " Uhh... hel-lo." The older bespectacled female rolled the greeting off her tongue. Looking surprised but also slightly disappointed because this oddly dressed painted lady certainly was NOT the pink-hatted buck-toothed boy she longed for, the girl asked, " Can I help you, ma'am?"

" Yes, I'm looking for a Vicky Harringer. Is she home?"

The young girl's eyes widened again and then a slight smirk appeared revealing her metallic dentures. " Yes, she is. This must be major, no one in their right mind _willingly _seeks out my sister. Is she finally in some type of legal trouble?"

The oriental woman raised her eyebrows but then remembering her state of dress, a flamingo pink two-piece suit with matching lime heels and dress shirt, she kind of did come off as a very Legally Blonde-esque lawyer. " Ohoho, no. Actually, I'm from a record company--" Her sentence fell off as a pair of black jean clad legs appeared behind the youth she was addressing. Her eyes traveled up the to the envy-inducing flat stomach, the true green belly shirt, the carrot orange ponytail that sat on a left shoulder, the soft pink lips stretched into a grim line, and finally, the pretty pink eyes darkened by the sharp glare. " Who the hell are you?" The shrill voice grated her ears. There's no way a voice like that could possibly make any sound pleasant enough to be heard on radio... maybe a horror movie.... " Um, as I was telling your sister, I'm from a record company and--"

" Is this about shiny teeth boy? What, he needs more inspiration for his next hit single? Not interested. Get off of my property." The teen pulled her sibling inside and moved to shut the door in her unwanted visitor's face but the taller woman quickly reacted pushing her delicate looking but actually pretty strong hand against the wooden structure. " W-wait, I'm from another record company, Skull Bunny Records." She used her free hand to pull out a card from her jacket pocket offering it to the teen. " Mr. Skylark is signed with Dimmadome Records whom we have no affiliation with. I only wish to speak with you, Miss Harringer."

The redhead took the card letting her eyes drink it in a few times. Eyeing the woman carefully she made a motion that she had conceded to this woman's story. " .... me?"

The voice was less shrill now, light and wondering... almost girlishly sweet. Yeah... that could definitely be heard on radio. " Yes... just you."

The woman allowed a small smile to light her features as Vicky gave way and allowed her to enter her home. With a firm flick of the wrist, she was ushered to sit on the very frilly and welcoming baby blue loveseat that stood against the wall that divided the living room and kitchen. _' Well... I wasn't expecting this...'_ The stranger mused to herself. The modest sized room was painted a creamy color, paintings of houses, horses, and floral arrangements lined the walls like a well decorated soldier. The furniture consisted of a three piece set: sofa, love seat, and recliner, all baby blue with white lace trimming the edges and hand knitted shawls hanging over the top. They formed a half circle around a large wooden cabinet, the television nestled between it's shelves. The whole area was tied in with a large area rug and a glass table in the center. _' Not exactly a dragon's lair... was I right afterall? Wouldn't be the first time, eh Micheal?' _She bristled slightly as she sat down and used her hands to smooth out her skirt. The youngest female briefly inquired if their guest would like a drink but the lady quickly declined. She was ready to do business.

Shrugging, the brace-faced girl laid back in the recliner as the mean queen herself sat across from her in the long sofa. The three women each busied themselves in their own assessments of the awkward quiet but it wasn't too long before the redhead grew tired of it. " Why are you here?" The four words stifled the cool air pumping from the near by air conditioner. Two pairs of eyes, one pink and one an unidentifiable brown latched onto the lone near black pair in the suddenly too big two-seater. Adjusting her glasses, the woman momentarily reviewed everything she had went over on the plane ride and could only grasp a few distinctive details. Well, she couldn't very well sit here flipping her hair all day could she?

" As I said before, I'm from Skull Bunny records. My name is Ami Watanabe, I'm here as a representative from our label. Now, I'm sure you're well aware of all the publicity surrounding Mr. Skylark's new song--"

Vicky burst from the sofa shouting, " It IS about him! You lying little--" Ami waved her aggressive words away. " No, no. You must let me finish, dear. It has nothing to do with him... unless you _want_ it to be."

The ferocious pink coloring in the dragon's cheeks winded down as curiosity settled in and took its course. " I'm not following..." She said softly.

Reaching into the lime green crocodile skinned bag tucked under her arm that the other two girls hadn't noticed before, Miss Watanabe took out a small stack of papers folded up and stapled together. " You see, Miss Harringer, I... or rather **we**, my partner and I, would like to make a proposition. Sign to our label and allow us... to turn you into this generation's 'Roxy'."

" Roxy?"

" Yes, darling. You're both too young to remember but some years ago, a popular boy group made a song about a shallow girl one of them knew named Roxy. The song was a huge hit. Sometime later, a female rapper showed up on the scene claiming she was Roxy and even made a hit song. It was a big public spectacle. Every teenager in America had taken sides, speculating over who was in the wrong and the like. Like any other fad, it lost it's steam but still managed to make an impact in the industry and also generate a lot of revenue for both parties involved."

The red-head had already sat back down processing all this information. " So... what you're saying is, you want to make me into a publicity stunt?"

The Asiatic woman lightly scratched at her hair. " In lamest terms, yes. You're a sharp girl, I'm not going to sugarcoat anything for you. I'm not too keen on this idea myself but he _insisted--"_ Realizing she was starting to ramble off, she quickly regained her composure and got back to the matter at hand. " Well, what we want to do is similar to the 'Roxy' epidemic only this time, we want to use the _real_ girl and you won't be rapping... then there's the question of your own talents--"

An eruption of laughter filled the room. " _Talent? _Vicky? Oh, this is---"

A crystallized rose glare ceased the ten-year old's snarky remark. Ami took this as a chance to continue. " But all that will be handled in the studio. I believe you're capable, but in the end, it'll all depend on your own willingness to succeed. And Miss Harringer..." She leaned forward resting her elbows on the knees of her crossed legs. " There's not many girls that get to publicly one-up the guy they hate. We can make it happen, it's what we do. You already have the advantage, the public knows who you are in name only, all they need is a face. And all **we** need, is your signature on these papers." She unfolded the contract and held it out to the young woman's shaky hands. Vicky took the contract, her rosy orbs darting over the words trying to soak up every detail making sure this was all reality. Her sibling had moved beside peering over her shoulder needing help believing this herself.

Clamping her white gloved fingers together, Ami started rocking in search for anything else to say that might seal the deal with this devil. " The details are all on those papers, anything you're unsure about can be explained back at the studio. I'm sure you'll find everything to your liking. We'll have most of the control over your image and the creative processes-- that's what we're here for after all to make sure you sell-- but you can offer some input, like right now, we're letting Britney come up with the concept of her next video--"

" Britney Britney is signed to your label? I thought she was with the same label as Chip... isn't that why they're always seen together?" The redhead inquired (without looking up) more out of feigned attentiveness then actual interest.

_'Oops.' _The blonde mentally slapped her forehead at her slip-up and tried to come up with an explanation that didn't dig her into a deeper hole. " Well, she **was** but well... this is all happened fairly recently. It's really not my place to say anything, she wants to be the one to explain it when she's ready ... all I'll disclose to you is that she's decided to go in a new direction and felt that she needed to move on from Dimmadome Records in order to do that. And she's chosen us to help with the transition."

" In other words, Blondie doesn't wanna sing 'bubblegum' anymore but Dimmadome didn't want to let go of their money making pop tart... so as soon as her contract ran out, she split. Is that correct?" The young raven haired girl snorted out.

_' Pretty sharp for a grade-schooler, isn't she?' _The thirty-something thought a bit bitterly. She continued, " I mean no offense to Doug Dimmadome and his company at all, but we really are a more free flowing label. Once our artists get to a point where they can stand on their own, we pretty much let them manage themselves. The way it usually works is, the bigger you get, the more voice you'll have." Most new aspiring artists would be jump for that, but this oddity in front of her just mumbled an affirmation that she was heard. Okay... so creative control didn't catch her interest.... what would? Licking her lips and immediately regretting the motion when the pungent tart flavor of her lipstick invaded her mouth, she thought of some other details that might catch her interest. " Well, right away, you'll get an advance on your salary, which you will be expected to pay back in due time, though that shouldn't be any problem considering that you'll have a bigger royalty percentage than most artists right off the bat even--"

" Chip?" The vicious redhead chirped out, looking up for the first time unable to hide her malicious glee at the prospect. A sneer had twisted her half hidden face into a sinister curl the Grinch could be proud of as her eyes returned to the papers in her hand.

" I was about to say the sa--artists at Dimmadome Records but yes, that would include him." Ami raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at the positively frightening look on her client's face. '_Aw... so she loves the green stuff, eh? I guess he __**does**__ know what's he doing...' _She internally giggled at the thought and continued, " Of course, it may not seem like much after **all **of the royalties are properly distributed...but a lot of people are involved and all need to make a living. Though it's all in fairness, the system is quite to a degree and many artists go into debt because of it, but there are those who manage their money well and end up making a pretty comfortable life for themselves. In fact--"

" Oh, money management is _no_ problem for this one. You should see how much this chick has in her bank account from years of accumulated Birthday, Christmas, and babysitting money. She could open her _own_ label if she wanted, although her wallet is still recovering from that Ricky situa--Oof!" Big sis foiled her mouthy little sister once again with a hard jab of her elbow to the young girl's pelvis.

Considering the girl's delicate frame, that _had_ to hurt but Ami couldn't help but chuckle thinking of her own younger sisters back in Dallas. " I'm sorry, dear. I've been here this whole time and haven't caught your name."

Recovering from the blow, the girl breathed out, " It's Tootie. Nice to meet you, ma'am. Now, how soon can you take this beast away from here?" She ducked another fist that came her way and slunk back into the recliner out of range of her sister's flying fist.

Absentmindedly, Ami took out her cell and checked the time. " Well, these things take time but if I can get your sister's consent back to the company today, I sure we can start working right away." She flipped her phone closed and looked back up at the sour sweet sixteen as she reviewed the last page of her agreement. " Well, Miss Harringer... do I have it?"

Not yielding, those pink eyes continued their quest through the chain of small Sans serif lettering adding to memory every significant detail of their journey to recite back to their master--the brain-- once the time came. Finally they came to a period and a string of dotted lines beneath the last sentence. Their quest had come to an end and only then did they give the strange, unnaturally blond lady in the room their attention. Slapping down the contract on the glass coffee table, Vicky laid back in her seat, folding her stringy arms and crossing her skinny legs together. Studying the dragon's movements, the other two tried to gauge what she was thinking but couldn't come to any set conclusion. Either she went for it or not, and neither was sure which outcome was any less frightening.

".... Tootie?"

" Yeah, sis?"

" Go find a pen."

* * *

Hmmm... so this is a concept that just kind of came to me after making a few sketches of Vicky in various outfits, she kinda looked like a pop star so I played with the thought a little and voila! This is the result. I know it's really bending reality but hey, it's fanfiction, right? I don't have a clear idea of where this series is going (which could be a good thing) so don't be surprised if it ended up dead or on a long hiatus between chapters (like all of my active fics to be perfectly honest... sigh, I need to be more diligent). This is more of a wait-and-see and 'stuff happens' type of deal. Plus, I didn't realize the utter lack of Chip/Vicky fandom on this site. Honestly, I thought the coupling would have a bigger following. I found only one Chip/Vicky fiction on this site, JUST ONE! What's up with that?! They're like the ultimate fanfiction couple: the meanest girl in town and her good natured shiny teeth having pop idol.... _they almost got married!!! _Come on! That's fan-girl _**bait**_ right there! Sigh. Oh well. -__-

BTW, I'm still totally hyped (and suffering from a mild headache) after seeing Britney (the real one XD) last night! I don't care what anyone says, B-girl killed it. I hope to give Britney (the parody) a nice role in this series since the person which she is based off of is the epitome of pop stardom. Also, see if you can figure out some of the parodies and plays off of actual music trivia that may show up throughout this series (there are two already in this chapter). Let's make it a game. ^__^

I love attention, I love reviews even mean ones, gimme gimme. Email your heart to me, kay? 3-- Ranma Matsuri


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